An Unsettling Discovery, Part 1
by thompson.radcliff
Summary: A father and daughter make a gruesome find outside of Moria. Their resulting investigation leads them to Lothlorien and onto greater challenges as the Order of the Tower Guard enters southern Mirkwood.
1. Chapter 1

**An Unsettling Discovery (short story)**

He knelt beside the dead body. Flies were gathering already. The wounds were similar to what he had seen on the other bodies not far away. More to claw and fang than edge of blade were the wounds owed, he thought. Strangely, while mangled the bodies had not been feasted upon by the creatures that killed them.

"It almost looks like the globsnaga infestation around the wounds, doesn't it?" a youthful maiden's voice asked from a pace behind him.

He looked at the telltale reaction of blood to the fungus already spreading outward from the wounds. He rested his cheek against the elongated handle of his halberd as it stood in front of him. He should have closed the man's eyes but touching the body was a risk he dared not take. "Yes," he finally responded with a grim scowl. "Yes, it does. That's not what worries me though."

"That they were killed by creatures but are uneaten? That the globsnaga fungus is outside of Moria?" the young voice asked. He stood up slowly, remarking for a moment how quick his daughter was in her attention to detail. He glanced at her for a moment before turning back to the body.

"Good that you noticed, but no. Though that is a concern. Notice the marks upon his bracers? What little you can make out still on his chestplate? Look to his helm where it came to rest just over there as well." He gestured to each in turn before returning both hands to the weapon standing at attention before him.

Antwanette took note of the heraldry and while vaguely familiar to her, she did not know to what it belonged. She glanced to her father with raised eyebrows asking for more information.

"This is Ruthamar." He wondered if the name would have meaning for her. His daughter was gifted in her gathering of knowledge and lore, but animals and nature were her domain. He continued on. "It's no common man-at-arms that lays before us here. The free peoples have lost a champion. He was good. As were his companions." He frowned again at the body, his mind still mulling over the significance. He stood straighter for a moment, removing his helm and holding it under the bend of his arm at his side. "Ruthamar of the House Tarma, Champion of the Free Peoples, may your passing into the Halls of Mandos be swift." With those words he bowed his head for a moment in silence before replacing his helm. His voice continued briefly before trailing off, "He was very very good…"

Silence hung in the air for a moment. "Greater than the mighty Leafblade?" Antwanette asked. He peaked around the haft of his halberd at her for a moment, a grim smile piercing his solemn expression as he took in the smirk shining brightly from his daughter's face. The morning sun shining down through the trees added a brilliance to the lightness of her hair. She was becoming a young woman. That she could attempt humor in such dark circumstances spoke not only to her maturity but to the trials she had already faced. He rolled his eyes dismissively away from her and snorted, "By far, my dear."

Antwanette glanced around with some alarm, gripping her wooden staff more firmly. "Should we be on our guard? Should we be away?"

Leafblade took in a deep breath and sighed, his eyes absently peering through the trees up the slope ahead of them. "No, no I don't think so. If whatever killed Ruthamar were still here, we would already be dead."

Antwanette found her father's words chilling. That she could already be dead on what she had thought to be a routine morning patrol through the Dimril Dale shook her.

"Still, we should be away," Leafblade continued. They began making their way back down the slope toward the river. "Let's find Toolajit and Odencrantz. There is a riddle here that needs solving. Lady Rose should hear of it."

Not far away, eyes of malice had watched from shadow.

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

**An Unsettling Discovery - Part 2**

Leafblade and Antwanette walked side by side from the wood and into the sunlit clearing. The Nimrodel ran through the clearing sparkling in reflection of the morning sun. Not far away Leafblade saw a sight that gave him pause. The armored form of the warrior Odencrantz was kneeling at the water's edge, his head submerged in the river water. Not more than a dozen paces upstream, standing on a rock at the water's edge, was the stout, hobbit figure of Toolajit. A wisp of smoke rose from the pipe protruding from his mouth. To Leaf's chagrin, a stream of liquid could be seen leaving the hobbit and splashing into the river as Toolajit relieved himself. Though back to, it was obvious what was happening. Leaf immediately drew up his cloak as a curtain before his daughter beside him.

"Toolajit!" he bellowed. "The hobbit jumped at the sound and hurriedly made to make himself decent once more. "Yes?" he replied.

Hearing the sound of Leafblade's exclamation, Odencrantz jerked his head out of the water and searched around for danger. So it was that he heard Leafblade continue:

"I hardly think that is appropriate in front of a lady OR to our elf friends that hold this river sacred."

Toolajit smiled sheepishly around his pipe as he finished fastening his trousers. Understanding dawned on Odencrantz. His face slowly contorted into a rage. In an instant he was racing at the hobbit with bare hands outstretched. Toolajit stepped behind a nearby tree and hid in plain sight. Odencrantz raced around the tree, and then another tree, and then another in a vain search for the hobbit. Antwanette giggled uncontrollably, as did the crow resting on her arm in a series of sharp caws. Leafblade sighed and called out to his friends that it was time to depart.

"So you really think we've got no chance against whatever it was that killed whoever that was?" Odencrantz was more curious than concerned as he stumped along the road beside Leafblade. Toolajit had reappeared and was walking a short way behind beside Antwanette, pet bobcat upon one side of her and horse on the other.

"Odie, your willingness to step in harm's way is beyond compare. But Ruthamar was a Dunadan. He was one of the survivors when the Nazgul attacked the Dunadan camp guarding the Shire last year. He was part of the group with Lady Rose that invaded Carn Dum and slew Mordirith. He was with the dwarves when they drove the Watcher out of the lake and underground. He surrounded himself with the best. Now they're all dead on that hillside. It's a heavy blow to the Free Peoples."

"And you think we've got no chance?" Odencrantz continued.

Leafblade sighed as they continued down the road toward Haldir's flet. "Odie, you're fearless. But neither you nor I are reminding anyone of the pillars of the Argonath. We're an undersized pair of Bree men doing stuff we weren't meant to do. I was last in my group in battle tactics when Dawn Appledore was training Bree militiamen to be captains. I couldn't best half of my company in a duel."

Leaf's voiced lowered to a whisper as he continued. "Toolajit's never won anything but a pie-eating contest. Never burgled anything bigger than the pie from last summer's Hobbiton festival. Antwanette is fifteen, Odie. Fifteen. She should still be tending horses at Hengstacer Farm in Bree, not following her dad through the dangers of Moria."

Odie interrupted, "Yeh, but she's awesome."

Antwanette had caught up with them. Odencrantz glanced over both shoulders for sign of the hobbit he still meant to have words with but he was gone again, though nearby he knew.

"How do you know so much about those people back there?" she asked her father.

Leaf glanced to his side at his daughter, her horse a few paces behind, a hawk now resting on her shoulder. "You know animals. I know people. It's why I carry this clumsy halberd with me," he said with a glance up to the decorative leaf-shaped blade of enchanted iron. "Not many times where a sword and shield wouldn't be better, especially in the confines of Moria. But if you're going to hold something up and shout a battlecry, the bigger the better."

"Compensating for something?" Toolajit's voice sounded from somewhere nearby, unseen.

Leaf sighed a longsuffering sigh. "It's symbolic. Intimidating to some enemies. Inspiring to friends."

They climbed the ladder of Haldir's flet and spoke with the elf warden. Lady Rose was there as well to confer with him on the state of things. Leafblade and Antwanette shared what they saw while down below on the forest floor, Odencrantz continued his search for vengeance upon the hobbit.

Leafblade was on edge. His sense of urgency to act was strong. He had little patience for the calm, conversational tone of Lady Rose or the occasional observation from his daughter.

"It looked like the globsnaga fungus-" she tried to offer before being interrupted.

"We don't know what it was. Ruthamar's body was quickly being overcome by it," Leafblade said. Squeezing the handle of his halberd in anxiousness as it stood beside him, he looked to Lady Rose and Haldir for answers.

Calmly as ever, the elven Lady Rose smiled a benign smile at Leafblade and reviewed the evidence as well as some other information shared by Haldir. She was clearly building toward a conclusion but Leafblade had no guesses.

"When taking into account," Rose continued, "the nature of the deaths, the death of the Balrog, knowing that nature abhores a vacuum, it can only lead to one conclusion." She paused, then turned toward Antwanette.

Antwanette, having quieted some after the interruptions from her father, answered: "The Mistress of Pestilence?" Lady Rose nodded. "Well done, Antwanette."

Leafblade sighed. Haldir glanced to Antwanette for a moment, then to Leaf while attempting to hide a smirk. Rose and Antwanette smiled rather openly. 'Humility never comes easy,' Leaf thought to himself.

They moved toward Caras Galadhon now to speak with the Lord and Lady of the Wood. A bear walked beside Antwanette now as she conferred with Lady Rose and Haldir. Odencrantz and Leafblade discussed weaponry and their harrowing battle with a troll in Moria a few days before.

"It's when they charge and I need to hold my ground that the axe and shield are not much use," Odencrantz said. " It's like trying to hold back a cavalry charge by myself."

"Sounds like you are envious of Leafblade's two-hander, Odie!" Toolajit's voice was tinged with obvious delight and scathing humor. This time, however, he was standing beside a tree not far away when Odie turned to the sound of his voice.

"I HAVE a two-hander," Odie said with a murderous glare while reaching over his shoulder to pull it from his back where it was slung. Or, where it was supposed to be slung. It was not there. He patted his shoulders a few times.

Toolajit smiled grandly, reached behind the tree he had been leaning on and pulled the oversized sword into view, resting it on one end. Odencrantz growled and reached for his axe at his belt…and found it gone.

Toolajit smiled again as Odencrantz glared at him, only to see the hobbit holding up the pilfered axe with his other hand. "Looking for this?"

Odencrantz charged. Toolajit let go of both weapons and darted away. The weapons fell unsupported to the ground. Odencrantz, intent upon catching the hobbit, had his ankles become entangled in the crossed weapon handles and crashed violently to the ground. Leafblade sighed as he marched on. The others looked back at the commotion. Leafblade waved off their attention with a dismissive hand, letting them know it was nothing and urging them to continue.

At the bridge at the vineyard, the group found two hobbits sitting upon the arch with bottles of wine beside them and fishing poles extended over the water. At the approach of Lady Rose, they hopped to their feet and bowed eagerly (if not very formally). Toolajit appeared beside the Lady Rose, her proximity acting as a guard upon the aggressions of the vengeful Odencrantz.

"Hobbiton! Huzzah!" Toolajit cheered.

"Michel Delving! Huzzah!" Bugglewise the hobbit responded with a raised hand holding a bottle of wine.

"Tuckborough! Huzzah!" Dewey the hobbit followed up. And then all three hobbits cried out in unison, "The Shire! HUZZAH!" This was followed by a brief danced jig. Lady Rose smiled, ever warmed by the sight of her short but doughty companions.

A short time later they passed through the magnificent gates of Caras Galadhon and into the city of the elves. Messengers had been sent ahead by Haldir and the elf warden now led them up the trail to the sitting bench nigh to the waterfall below the great flet of Celeborn and Galadriel. There they found the Lord and Lady. In the high morning sun, the brilliance of Galadriel and grandeur of Celeborn were stunning. Though having met them before, Leafblade still had to force himself to focus on his words when called upon by Haldir to share what he had seen.

Perhaps it was the important discussion taking place or the brilliance of the Lady Galadriel. Toolajit had no longer concealed himself. He felt a crushing grip on his shoulder from behind and was lifted slowly off his feet and pulled backward. The slight commotion was noticed by the group. Odencrantz bowed his head formally, "M'lord. M'lady. I beg your pardon." With that, Odencrantz continued on up the trail with the hobbit dangling with kicking feet beside him from his upraised hand.

Leafblade flushed with embarrassment at his companions, but the discussion continued. The news of the death of Ruthamar and the renewed presence of the Mistress of Pestilence was disconcerting as the Fellowship was preparing their departure. Investigation was going to be necessary, Galadriel explained to Haldir.

"Lady Rose, Leafblade, Antwanette," Galadriel addressed them. The three looked to the Queen of the Golden Wood, awaiting her words but distracted, for at the height of the tall waterfall behind the Queen could now be seen the form of the hobbit dangling helplessly, suspended by the strong arm of Odencrantz over a fall of nearly forty feet.

"There may come a time when an expedition will be necessary," Galadriel continued, perhaps unaware of what transpired not far behind her. But little went unnoticed by the Lady in her own land.

All three nodded and the Lady Rose voiced assurance that they would be ready when the time came. "Indeed, Your Highness," Leafblade said. "We will be-

At that moment he was unable to avoid pause as far above the form of Toolajit was flung out from the high ledge and over the waterfall. Cartwheeling through the air and screeching in fear the entire way down, he disappeared into the misty pool at the bottom of the fall. Odencrantz, high above, could be heard letting out a gloating cry of triumph that was easily heard over the roar of the falls.

Though Galadriel and Celeborn betrayed no knowledge of the events taking place behind them, clearly they could not have failed to have heard. Haldir was aghast. Lady Rose blushed. Antwanette stifled a giggle. Her pet tiger, having paused in the midst of licking his paw to watch the falling form of the hobbit crash into the water below, returned to licking his paw. Leafblade swallowed.

"We will be ready, M'Lady."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Order of the Tower Guard **

"I do so swear myself to the service of the Order of the Tower Guard."

It was with a mixture of pride and regret that Leafblade heard his daughter speak the words of the oath. Not for the first time did he regret that Antwanette was not still living in Bree, leaving the house each morning to begin work at Hengstacer's horse farm while he did his part in the town guard. She should be living the life of a normal girl, he thought. But then these were not normal times.

He had taken his own oath to the Order not long ago after playing his role well in the battle against the Watcher in the Water. Now fair Gwynnariel Half-Elven and brother Belimawr stood beside one another at the front of the ceremonial grounds. With them stood the diminutive elf maiden Faenel. All had taken the oath. All stood now before the leadership of the Order. Cheers rained down upon the new inductees from the gathered members of the Order. "All hail the Mighty Ones!" Sandegast bellowed in his baritone, hobbit voice with arms upraised.

The crowd began to move inside the grand kinship hall where music, wine and feasting awaited. Leafblade leaned a shoulder against one of the pillars and let out a sigh. The sun was disappearing behind the hill of Bree and the festive lamps were being lit about Grimstable. Antwanette, Faenel and Gwynnariel were giggling merrily at some jest, apparently at Belimawr's expense. His unamused glower and folded arms only incited the ladies further. Gwynnariel and Faenel leapt up to wrap arms about him in an enthusiastic embrace while pressing kisses to his cheeks. Belimawr stoically withstood the friendly, affectionate assault that the ladies had termed glomping. Antwanette joined in the assault prancing about in front of Beli with a mocking dance.

Leafblade felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the tall, dark elf-lord Damz standing beside him watching the besieged Belimawr stare defiantly skyward.  
"She's a good lass, Leaf," he said in his deep voice and thick accent. "Ought to be proud. The Order's not before accepted one so young."  
Leafblade, arms folded, could only clinch his jaw and look down, biting back a number of bitter responses and kicking at the ground with his toe. "Yesss, mate," Damz continued, "I know. Tending horses and singing songs while beating off the advances of ill-mannered farmboys with a stick, is it? She should be. We should all have simpler lives."

Damz knew Leaf's frustration better than most. They'd spoken of it often on hunts and patrols. When they had returned from a sortie into Mirkwood to find members of the Order had slain the Mistress of Pestilence deep in the bowels of Moria, they had both been furious: Damz, because they had undertaken such a dangerous mission without him; Leaf, because they had taken Antwanette with them. Casandir had explained to Damz that there had been no time to wait for their return. The dwarves of Moria had located the Mistress and were determined to attack with or without the help of the Order and would likely have failed if unaided. Had explained to Leafblade that Antwanette's particular skills were crucial to their chances of success and that all possible precautions had been taken to assure her safety.

A year ago he might have throttled man or elf, lord or commoner who brought his daughter into harm's way. A lot had changed since the burning of Archet, however. More than his own child had been forced to face dangers before their time. It had still been difficult for either of them to be calmed. Ultimately, it had taken Faenel's intervention. Standing in a chair so as to look Damz in the eye and down (slightly) at Leafblade, a finger jabbing at both, scolding them for thinking she would have let anything happen to Antwanette or any of the others.

Damz now gave Leafblade's shoulder a brotherly squeeze before removing his hand and immediately breaking out in laughter. Belimawr had had enough and held his arms out away from his body. Gwynnariel playfully struggled against one arm to apply further glomps while Faenel now dangled from the other, feet kicking in the air well above the ground.  
"Tell me, mate" Damz continued, "where do they make elf maidens that tiny? Does she have a dab of pixie blood?"  
Leafblade rolled his eyes. "Probably the same odd place they make tall silvan elf lords with the speech of a stiff Gondorian coastal noble."  
Damz let the verbal joust slide by with a laugh and stepped toward the kinship hall. "Best hurry before the wine is near gone, Leaf. You'll be left with the dregs."  
"I like dregs," Leaf said defiantly.  
"Ahh yes," Damz said in parting as he neared the hall. "Thought that might explain the sour puss."

It was as his gaze followed Damz into the hall that he felt his daughter wrap her arms about him from the side and kiss his cheek. She then rested her head on his shoulder. "You look so grumpy, Dad. Aren't you happy for me?"  
Leafblade sighed and gave a kiss to the top of his daughter's head. "I am more proud of you than words can say, my dear" he said into her hair before leaning his cheek there. He then glumly confessed, "I am less ready for you to grow up than you are, it would seem."  
Any further talk was interrrupted as Faenel leaped upon Leaf's back from behind and clung there with arms around his neck. The 'glomping' continued all the way into the kinhall where the celebration was well underway.

To Be Continued...


	4. Chapter 4

**The Good, The Evil, and The Orcish**

"Here they come!" Leafblade shouted. The others hardly needed the warning. From atop the walls of the ancient fortress, Thangulhad of Mirkwood, they could plainly see the glint of spears and weapons in the moonlight amongst the trees. Dark figures flowed down the hills toward the stronghold as rivers of shadow threatening to flow through the gates and drown the camp of the Golden Host.

Leaf sounded his Captain's horn in challenge to the approaching darkness as well as to alert the rest of the fortress that an assault was come on the south wall. None nearby thought help would come. The heroes of Gankari had been busy repelling grapplers all along the north wall. The main enemy force with archers, trolls and a siege tower had rolled up against the west wall and gate. The Golden Host was hard pressed in holding the line and the fires of battle were burning brightly when a flying drake had swooped in over the wall with an ear-splitting screech and crashed down into the elf tents on the north side of the fortress. The leader of the remnants of the Hidden Guard had bid the Order of the Tower Guard to hold the south wall and gate while he led the elven spearmen into camp to slay the drake. No sooner had they left than Scout Laeglang had come rushing through the trees and in the south gate with warning that Yrch in great numbers were coming.

Scattering the Lorien elves and allies about Mirkwood to assault the Dourstocks, Ashenslades, and lands about Ost Galadh had seemed a logical risk: keep the forces of Dol Gulder busy and harassed on many fronts and unable to gather for a focused strike upon an elusive enemy. But if enough of them gathered and caught one of the Free People's forces in camp, the smaller group could be overwhelmed before aid could arrive.

It was that possibility that looked to become a grim reality as the enemy came pouring out of the trees and across the open ground toward the undermanned south wall. Eldiraen, an elven huntress from the Blood of Numenor, began rapidly loosing arrows into the night. The Order's Gwynnie and Belimawr stood beside her firing their own deadly rain of arrows. With the elves drawn away fighting the drake in camp, the three were too few and the orcs that fell but a small part of the oncoming host.

Leafblade felt a hand clap on his shoulder. Andwuld, husband to Eldiraen and champion of the Blood of Numenor, spoke in his businesslike tone: "Time to play lightning rod for this little storm, Leaf."  
They turned, the two of them, and hustled down the steps of the stone stairway from the top of the wall to the ground level. There Edinellion, a tall and grim warden of the Order awaited them. His exquisitely crafted teal armor gleamed in the dim glow of the torches and fires of battle. Distinctive shield in one hand and tall spear in the other, he only nodded at them and they in turn as they joined up and marched abreast one another into the dark corridor beneath the wall that would lead out of the south gate.

"Go get them, mighty ones!" cheered Sandegast with upraised hobbit arms from the wall above them. "Be careful!" called down Faenel from her spot on the wall opposite Sand. The two minstrels were all that were left to man the ballistae when battle was joined. A dramatic dirge of menacing strings sounded from the lute of Sandegast, punctuated by occasional whistles, as he performed his version of a well-known melody taken from a favorite at the Bree theatre: _The Good, The Evil and The Orcish_.

"A battle minstrel with a sense of humor," Edinellion sighed as they disappeared into the dark corridor.

The arched gateway was without gates. All of the outer gates of the fortress had been ruined long ago. The elves had attempted no repairs to them since fortifying and defending stone structures had not been part of their plan of quick strikes and evasion of larger forces. Gates tended to attract trolls with battering rams. Such a lightning rod was not desired. Just now, as Leafblade emerged out into the moonlight flanked by Andwuld and Edinellion, with a seething host of dark creatures before them, a gate seemed like not such a bad idea after all. Instead, he and his companions standing by his red banner of war would be the lightning rod. They lit bonfires to either side of the gate as they emerged from the opening in the wall. Ten paces out from the gate they stopped. Leaf slammed the sharp, iron-shod tip of his banner into the earth and took up his horn. His companions held aloft burning torches to either side. He blew into the horn. Light, sound and red banner beckoned to the oncoming forces. From all along the forest edge the enemy burst out of the trees as if the sluice gates had been opened.

"Andwuld?"  
"Yes, Leaf?"  
"I forgot to visit the privy."  
Andwuld deadpanned, "Want me to ask them to hold off the attack until you've had a chance?"

Edinellion shifted the torch to his shield hand, reached over his shoulder to unholster a javelin, and readied to throw. "Piss on some orcs, Leafblade. They'll be close enough shortly." With that, he flung a javelin down the slope to skewer a large Uruk leading the charge. The creature pitched forward onto the ground and was engulfed by the oncoming mass behind him. On the orcs came, converging on the focal point as hoped. Many with grappling hooks or ladders dropped their equipment, drew weapons and crowded toward the three. Having been whipped into a blood frenzy by their battle leaders, exhorted to fire and ruin, threatened with torture and painful death if they returned defeated, the uruks and orcs forgot their assigned tasks in their blind fury at the sight of the brazen few free peoples standing before them. All wanted to take down the foe, claim the banner, and carry it through the gate.

When they were within twenty paces of the three, Andwuld and Edinellion raised torches and waved them in an arc above their heads. Time slowed down to an endless agony. The red eyes and yellow snarls of the enemy coursed up the slope at them. Edinellion raised his shield and dropped into the warden crouch. Andwuld dropped his torch and drew blades. Leafblade took a deep breath and squeezed his halberd tightly in front of him. He felt a child again, trying to stop the pigs from escaping the pen after forgetting to latch the gate. There were too many. There was no way.

Up on the walls, the signal was received. Sandegast and Faenel pulled on levers, triggering the triple-loaded ballistae.

To Be Continued...


	5. Chapter 5

**A Rude Awakening**

Leafblade growled in agony through gritted teeth. Lightning bolt shafts of white light streaked through the vision of his tightly clenched eyes. His left knee felt like it had completely come apart as Sandegast tested its stability with a few quick tugs and pulls.

"Ohhh, Mighty One," the hobbit tsk'd while shaking his head. "You've done something here that knees were not meant for." Faenel held him down by one shoulder, Edinellion by the other. He struck out with a hand and gripped the shoulder of the elf warden, squeezing in response to the pain arcing through his knee.

Leaf gasped for air through the pain and panted it out. "The TROLL did this, not me!" The troll had indeed done it. A troll champion judging by its size, coming late to the battle and from under the high south wall, had not been seen until it was almost at the gate.

Until then, their desperate defense of south gate had looked to have been an unlikely success. The attacking hordes had been baited into a dense spear thrust at Leafblade, Andwuld, and Edinellion in front of the gate. The ballistae atop the walls, required only to shoot a short distance, were overloaded with missiles and fired at the last moment. The vanguard of the enemy was laid low in an instant.

Leaf and the others had retreated in through the gate while Tower Guard archers thinned enemy ranks with rains of arrows. Another triple loaded ballista repositioned just inside the walls fired into the enemy as they came en masse through the arched gateway. There at the inner opening of the gateway, Edinellion had anchored the last stand that stemmed the tide. Having left their boldest skewered outside the gate and slowed in their charge by the quagmire of corpses under the arch, the remaining forces could not muster the strength to overwhelm the defenders.

A counterattack by the elven spearmen of the Hidden Guard, returning from the slaying of the drake, pushed back the enemy. The gate was won and the enemy in retreat. Then the troll came. Delayed by a brilliant diversion from Nocona's subterfuge, the lumbering beast was absent from the initial assault. The elves were caught unawares by its sudden arrival and two were slain. It fell to the Tower Guard to lure him into the sights of the ballista while it was hastily reloaded. It was there that Leafblade, whilst circling the great beast with Ed, Andwuld, and Nocona, was injured. Coming too close, a sudden backhand from the creature stunned him and lifted him from the ground. He had come to his senses some short time later a dozen paces from the creature. It lay upon the ground with the ballista bolt protruding from its torso. Leafblade lay upon the ground after an awkward fall with a knee throbbing painfully.

He was relieved, in spite of the injury, to see all the familiar faces of the Tower Guard accounted for. Relieved, that is, until Sandegast convinced everyone to hold him still while the hobbit proceeded to look at the injury.

"I have seen worse, Mighty One. You will walk again. But not anytime soon, I fear." Sand proceeded to place a splint around the injured knee and secure it. Edinellion helped Leafblade to his feet and supported him with a shoulder as they moved back inside the walls of Thangulhad. There he saw Andwuld, his face set in concentration, seated upon the steps of the stone stair up to the wall. The mannish champion of the Blood of Numenor was having a wound to his shoulder tended to by Eldiraen. He was holding an arrow in his hand and studying the bloody tip.

Edinellion helped Leaf to a seat beside Andwuld before moving into the fortress to see how matters fared there. The sounds of battle seemed to have died and fires were being put out. It appeared the other attackers had been repelled as well.

Leafblade studied the arrow being scrutinized by Andwuld. He frowned. "And, that's an elf arrow."

"Yes," Eldiraen said quickly, angrily. "It is. _Someone_ moved when they were to have been still." Her tone left no doubt in Leaf's mind who that was. Andwuld winced while setting down the arrow as Eldiraen began bandaging the wound her own arrow had caused.

"I had to move, dear," Andwuld explained tiredly. "They were preparing a Warband Maneuver."

Eldiraen harrumphed in dismissal. "Warband Maneuver. Always with you it is the Warband Maneuver. We have not seen _yrch_ enact that tactic since Fil Gashan, Andwuld." The champion rolled his eyes, carefully, out of sight of his wife as she continued the bandaging behind him. "_Atan en noldo_," Eldiraen continued in a contemptuous hiss. "The next time I tell you to stand, you stand. I am more dangerous than any foul yrch!"

Andwuld leaned forward to rise to his feet. "_Daro_!" Eldiraen commanded and the man let out a resigned sigh.

"_Le melon_," he said quietly. The motions of his wife paused for a moment and her face softened. "_Le melon_," she replied quietly and finished her bandaging with considerably gentler hands.

"It was a good plan, Andwuld, my friend. On behalf of the Order, I thank you for the assistance," Leaf said.

"The key was Nocona, Leaf. That troll was a monster. If not for her keeping it away from the gates that long, we'd have been in trouble."

"You'd have found a way to deal with the troll too if necessary, And." Leaf grimaced and caught his breath a moment as a shock of pain went through his knee again.

Andwuld looked down to the wounded leg and then glanced to make eye contact with Leaf. "I _did_ tell you to keep moving and stay out of arm's reach."

Leafblade groaned, "I did."

Andwuld leaned toward Leaf a few inches, "A _troll's_ arm length, not yours, Leaf."

Leaf sighed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Of Tea and Trumpets**

A week later, in Caras Galadhon, Leafblade hobbled with a crutch toward a dinner table in the tent erected for the Order. Antwanette set plates of food down for them both. Already seated at the table, Faenel and Gwynnie were sharing a giggle at some private jest. As Leaf leaned his crutch against the table and lowered himself down into a seat opposite Faenel, Antwanette seated herself beside her father and poured them both some juice. Leaf thanked his daughter for the food and she reached over to pat him on the back. "It's what a good daughter does when their father gets too old to feed himself," she replied.

Leaf sighed. "What would I do without you?" Gwynnie laughed merrily and Faenel smiled. Leaf liked how her eyes twinkled when she smiled. As pleasantries were exchanged, Dams approached the table dressed in a radiant cloak with the image of the White Tree embroidered upon it. Now, however, after the ceremony three days prior in which Dams, Scillari and Hart were all honored with officership in the Order, the primary color of Dams' cloak had changed from black to a deep, dark red.

"Goood morning, my kinfolk. I do hope I am not intruding upon a private dinner?" the tall elf said as he lowered himself into a seat beside Gwynnie.

"Oh, Dams, of course not," Gwynnie said in a playful, chiding tone.

Leaf buttered some bread. "Dams, newest officer in the Order of The Tower Guard. Are you sure you're not too good to eat with us?"

A few smiled and all eyes turned to Dams in anticipation of the response to Leaf's jest. Dams chuckled lightly while pouring himself a cup of tea. "Leaf Leaf Leaf, come now. You know how I enjoy having a spot of tea with with the ladies."

Antwanette chuckled and put an arm around her father while looking at Dams, "And we ladies enjoy having a spot of tea with you, Dams. Don't we, Dad?"

Leaf stopped chewing his bread, turned a glance to his daughter, and growled lowly. Gwynnie and Faenel shared a merry giggle.

"And Leaf," Dams continued while raising his cup, "my eating with you doesn't mean I'm not too good to be eating with you."

With that he gestured a cheers and drank from his cup. "Alas, ladies and gentlemen, I must be away. Please be advised," he said while standing, "we have a meeting with kin leadership at noon in the tree of the Lord and Lady. Important matters to be discussed."

-

**A Test of Fellowship**

It was a stern, thoughtful group that Leafblade saw descending from the treetop housing of the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. He had not attended the meeting. Ladders were not an option yet. The knee injured in the troll attack on Thangulhad was still healing. There was something about drinking miruvor and the healing touch of the high elves that brought his recovery along much faster than expected. But he had a long way to go yet. He chafed to return to the patrols and skirmishes in Mirkwood with his fellow members of the Order. As the others approached, he got to his feet with the aid of the walking stick crafted for him by Eldiraen. He was leaning on it much less of late but the healers pressed him to continue to use it for the time being.

"Please attend us in the officer quarters, Leafblade." Casandir's request was polite as ever. Such requests were rare, however, and came as a surprise to Leaf. He glanced to the others as they moved toward the Order's pavilion. The few glances he got seemed furtive and wary. He thought that odd.

Faenel and Antwanette were still descending the ramp that twined up the base of the giant mallorn. Not wanting to keep Casandir waiting, he decided to speak with them later. Curiosity was pulling at him.

"We're going into Dol Guldur." Casandir sat still upon an ornately carved chair in the sparsely decorated tent.

Leafblade gaped at Casandir with some surprise. "With all the recent attacks? The reports of increased forces arriving from the Misty Mountains up the orc way?"

"It is necessary," Casandir continued.

Leafblade leaned forward in his chair, hands resting around the carved walking stick as it stood in front of him as he so often did with his halberd. His dark eyes glanced to the others a moment before returning to Casandir.

"If you say it must be so, then so be it. But why? We've struck against the Warg Pens, the Sword Halls, destroyed Gorothul at Sammath Gul." Leaf gestured at Dams standing not far away at the mention of the last. The tall elf had led that daring foray and himself had slain the sorceror that directed the forces of Dol Guldur. Dams gave subtle nod of acknowledgment in response. Leafblade continued, "And we've bloodied them in their attack on Thangulhad. What more can we hope to accomplish inside Dol Guldur? We've seen their response to the fall of Gorothul. They'll be more vigilant now."

"We cannot continue the harassment of their forces, Leafblade." The voice of Nocona was little more than a whisper but it carried clearly to all within the tent. One had a tendency to forget the slender scout was present, such was her habit of blending into the background and escaping notice. From the shadow of a mallorn, she continued. "The Heren Ecthelion has confirmed our fears about Saruman. He has betrayed the White Council and the Free Peoples. Isengard has become a place of evil."

Minbur leaned forward from her chair to speak. The afternoon sun glowed within the airy tent of the elves and nowhere did it glow more strikingly than when reflected from the golden hair and ageless eyes of the fair elf maiden. Leafblade momentarily lost his concentration and looked down to his feet out of respect and to hear her words.

…know, the Fellowship has moved on. Upon them rest all our hopes. While the Dark Tower of Mirkwood is engaged, the Dark Tower of Mordor will have reason to look away even as Frodo draws closer. We will make him take notice one more time before we move on as well." Firm. He had only heard her speak a few times, but even so, her words on this day were more firm than before. Silent and steely, he found her gaze holding his for a moment as he looked up. She leaned back in her chair and said no more.

"We're moving on?" The question filled the silence quickly as Leaf's mind rolled through information being given to him.

"The Grey Company needs our help, Leaf." Dams took a breath before continuing. "They're moving south and having a beastly time of it. Now the White Wizard changing his colors and fancying the One for himself. Not the cup of tea I want brewing before I put in my tuppence."

Casandir stood and moved with graceful steps toward a vase of elanor, took a crystal decanter from an armoire near at hand and watered flowers of Lorien. "The Defenders of the Mithril Halls have already left for Eregion to gather and move southward. Much of the Blood of Numenor has left. Only your friends remain."

The voice of Nocona hissed with obvious disdain from the shadows, "Heroes of Gankari. Swift Swords. Grace of the Valar. Gone."

"They have not _abandoned_ Lothlorien, my dear friend," Casandir replied. "They have answered the call to action that we all must. The tide of our time flows toward conclusion in the south. We will gather as soon as we may and move to aid the Grey Company and contest the will of Saruman."

"The Proteges of Iluvtar have agreed to stay and take part in the attack," Nocona added reluctantly. "Though I hold little trust in any who would give themselves such an arrogant title."

"I say, Nocona" Dams stood from leaning lightly against the armoire and took a few paces forward. "The Proteges have been stout here in Mirkwood. Not a tosser in the lot that I've seen." Turning back from Nocona, he wandered across the room as he talked. "A bit of pride, attention to one's polish, it hardly makes one...

The voice of Dams faded into silence as his steps took him past the mirror atop the armoire. Whether it was a hair out of place or admiration for all being in perfect order, he leaned closer to the mirror and turned his head first left, then right. His hand reached for the hairbrush below the mirror.

Casandir smoothly stepped in front of Dams and picked up the conversation. "I believe our dear friend is trying to say that pride has its uses and we cannot let it cause doubt in our allies."

"Yes...indeed," Dams whispered absently as he raised the brush, pondering an adjustment.

"If we leave now, with the forces gathering around Dol Guldur, Lorien could very well be overwhelmed. We must strike a blow that will cast the enemy into disarray and allow the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood more time to prepare. We must strike down the Lieutenant."

Leafblade felt his hands grow slack. The walking stick slid from his grip and rested against his knee. "The Nazgul? In the tower? You're going into the tower itself? After the Nazgul himself?"

Casandir nodded. Minbur nodded. Dams turned away from the mirror to stand beside the others in silent affirmation. Leafblade was dumbfounded. He looked from one face to the next while visions of a distant, dark, dreadful tower with fell winged beasts circling the summit passed through his mind.

"The Nazgul cannot be destroyed," Leafblade responded. He was searching for understanding. "Elrond and Gandalf vanquished them at the Fords of Bruinen and yet they are abroad once more. What can you hope-"

"They will be sent back to their master for a time," said Minbur. "They will need time to take shape again." They were going. That much was clear. Why were they taking this time to speak to him?

He stood. What he started to say next pained him. "The healers said this morning my knee was not ready. I will stand by you but I fear I cannot move as you will need. The standard of the Order-"

"Will be carried by Keiros," Casandir broke in with a hand raised. "You are correct. You cannot move as we will need. Nor fight, I deem, though your heart is willing. I've asked you here because we must go without you. Antwanette must come with us as well."

It felt as though his heart had stopped. Time stood still in an infinite moment of silence as he searched for words. All that he managed was a hoarse whisper: "You can't have her."

Silence answered him. The eyes of Casandir did not waver. Nor did Minbur's. Nor Dams'. They had already made the decision to take her. They had not even asked him. Just as they had done in Dar Narbugud. Only now he was present and still they had not asked him. Now they were speaking of an attack upon the tower of the Nazgul and facing the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur himself. He briefly had a vision of his daughter standing beneath the shadow of the Nazgul upon a fell beast. Anger, fierce and protective, flared within him.

"I am her father." He had found his voice. Strengthened by the conviction of his duty to protect his child. He eyed each of the eldar before him angrily. He no longer saw dear friends. He saw people attempting to take away his family. He gripped the walking stick and gestured forcefully with it as he spoke. "I'm NOT going to let you drag MY daughter off on some fool's errand so you can toss her life away to die in shadow!"

There was a long moment of silence. Leafblade had crossed a line and while the leaders of the Order both understood his emotions, indeed had foreseen them, and were patient, he himself would later and ever after regret his words. At that moment, he was blinded by love for his daughter, surrounded by those who would take her into shadow, and ready to do anything to save her.

Casandir did not need to tell Leafblade that Antwanette had volunteered to go. All missions of the Order were based on the principle that those stepping into danger must do so out of belief in their goals, conviction of their purpose and love of their fellow members.

Casandir did not need to remind Leafblade that Antwanette, while young, had taken the Oath of the Order of her own accord. As such she was an individual member of the Tower Guard whose mind, thoughts and actions would be respected singularly and, if necessary, independent of her father's.

Casandir rose from her seat and stepped away.

Dams finally spoke. "Leaf mate, we're not tossing any lives away."

Minbur joined, "We have a plan we expect to succeed."

Nocona, stepping forward from the shadows, laid a hand on Leaf's shoulder. "We have scrolls left here by Gandalf. A long time ago he went into Dol Guldur alone to discover the identity of the Necromancer. He left a detailed account here in Lorien. We have a plan."

Casandir returned from private quarters with a shining, silver cloth draped over her arm. She looked upon it as she moved and set it delicately down upon an ornate wooden table a few paces from Leafblade. "I believe in this mission, Leafblade. As I believe in your daughter and our need for her aid. As I believe in you and your love for her. Though I say to you that we will do all in our power to return her to you, no words of mine can banish the fear or hurt in your heart at what we ask. I can only offer to you a token of our conviction."

Nocona let out a whispered breath of shock and objection as her hand fell from Leaf's shoulder. Minbur leaned forward in her chair but paused there. Dams' eyes moved from the table to Leafblade to gauge his response.

Upon the table, Casandir's fingers carefully arranged the mithril shirt that she had long worn into battle. "It was given to me by Gil-Galad when I was charged by Isildur with preserving the Scion of Nimloth during the War of the Last Alliance. I am unsure what foresight he had. The task given to me, he said, had no end that he could foresee. And so, he said, I and my purpose should have protection as capable of defying the shadow as any other known to Elves, Dwarves or Men."

Casandir then turned toward Leafblade. It was a solemn and sincere gaze that she put upon the man before her. "The Order of the Tower Guard is not about Casandir or any individual. It is about a higher purpose and a dedication to one another in pursuit of that purpose. This," Casandir gestured with one hand toward the mithril shirt that lay upon the table, "is a token of my dedication to the purpose we pursue in this mission and to my fellow Order members. It is a terrible thing I ask of Antwanette and her father. For this mission, I would have her wear this."

The enormity of the gesture was not lost upon Leafblade. All the fire in his heart left him. He was beaten. His objections silenced. His defiance vanquished. His ire doused by Casandir's act. His daughter and the Order would ascend the Dark Tower without him.

And so the preparations began. They would cross the river and enter Mirkwood that night...


	7. Chapter 7

**Somewhere Up In The Night**

"I know I can't ask you to bring back my daughter," Leafblade said. He looked down for a moment, adjusting his gloves unnecessarily as words caught in his throat. Andwuld and Dams stood nearby at the gate in Thangulhad. The Golden Host had amassed all its strength and moved out some hours ago, clearing the nearby forest of enemies and filtering through the darkness toward various strike points around the dark fortress of Dol Guldur. In moments, the Order of the Tower Guard would move out to play its role in the assault upon Barad Guldur and the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur. To challenge the might of the Nazgul directly and all the dangers held within the dark tower would require the greatest skill and surpassing good fortune for any hope of success. Focus upon the goal was of paramount importance. During such undertakings, hard decisions often had to be made. He knew that his fellow members of the Order could not waste time and energy _looking out_ for his daughter. To do so would compromise their chances for success. One simply did not ask that of his fellows.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly through quiet, exhaled words, "But please bring her back."

"Leeeaf," Dams replied in a mock chiding tone while hefting a mighty guardian's shield crafted almost as elaborately as his hair . "It's called a shield wall, mate. She'll be back in no time a'tall." Dams gave Leaf a playful bump with the shield and stalked toward the gate where their horses awaited. With sheathed sword at his waist, guardian's shield at his side, mighty battleaxe strapped to his back, elf-crafted Mallorn bow slung over the other shoulder, knives and pouches at his belt along with the full suit of heavy armor, Dams looked like a storm of battle ready to be unleashed upon the enemy.

Andwuld placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "We'll bring back Faenel too." Leaf looked to the mannish champion and longtime friend to see him winking as he turned away to follow Dams. Leafblade looked down for a moment, ashamed to have breached the warrior etiquette in making his request but knowing his mates understood. He turned to check the saddle on his steed again when Andwuld's voice sounded again.

"And whatever you're doing with that horse that you shouldn't be..."

Leafblade looked over his shoulder at Andwuld to see him looking over his as he walked away and heard him say, "Be careful."

Andwuld was right. Leafblade was in no condition to enter battle. He could walk on his leg, but walking and engaging an enemy in melee were two different things. He simply was not capable of at the moment without falling to the ground at the first hint of a twist or pivot on the damaged knee. But staying in Ost Galad or back in Lothlorien while the Order undertook it's greatest challenge was out of the question. And so he would do what he could. It had taken an angry reminder to Dundurion of the Golden Host that it was Leafblade who had rescued him at the Haunted Inn when the wraiths had closed in. Only then did the elf relent and agree to the captain attaching himself to their strike in through the front gate.

-

His parting words for his daughter had been difficult. The unspoken concern they would not see each other again had hung in the air between them like a dreadful morning mist. He spoke of _after_ and moving back over the mountains and south into Rohan with Order. Of her opportunity to see the fabulous horses found there. Lastly he spoke to her of the coming battle. Instructed her to be decisive, for indecision had lost many a battle, stay near to Dams and take no chances. Antwanette had heard it all before but listened dutifully as her father gave the instructions that were more about a father saying _I love you_to a daughter than a captain preparing a loremaster for battle. She hugged her father, promising to follow his directions so they could go see the horses in Rohan together. Before the night was over, being decisive was the only promise she would keep.

-

He planted the banner in front of the main gate. The gate beckoned to him, standing open and unguarded. The Lieutenant of Dol Guldur had an ego. Long dead, or trapped between life and death, the Nazgul was once a proud man from the far eastern lands. His pride endured even when many of his other human facets had vanished with his descent into darkness and servitude to the Dark Lord of the Rings. So he had, Leafblade judged, allowed his fortress to breathe. To inhale challengers and exhale death. The gates had been opened in bold challenge to the Free Peoples when spies reported intrusion into the forest. Nowhere had it been more apparent than the Sword Halls. Leafblade thought he was to die that hour when he strode boldly into the Sword Halls only to see the Nazgul. He survived only because the Black Rider, the Nazgul, the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur had laughed and sent forth champions as challengers to he and his companions. When they had answered the challenge and triumphed over the morroval, the uruks and the troll, they had been allowed to leave Dol Guldur. Fortune favored the foolish that day. But Leafblade had learned something about the Nazgul that day as well. The pride of the Lieutenant clouded his judgment. And it would cost him. Gorothul, his own lieutenant, had been slain by Dams and the Order in a strike that would have been nearly impossible if the gates of the fortress had been closed. Yet still, the gates remained open in challenge.

-

_To the south, at the base of the volcanic mountain upon which Dol Guldur was built, the small band from the Order and the Golden Host had entered the hidden cave once used by Gandalf long ago. Their ascent through the shadowy bowels of Amon Lanc had begun._

-

The orc camps at Hongoi, Lugdump and Burzkala were already in flames to the north. The siege engines atop Kufuzg were burning brightly. There was little time to think now. The strike force of the Golden Host was approaching from behind. He brought the horn to his lips. Each action he would take would play a role in distracting the enemy from the main thrust of the attack. It was turning the enemy's focus away from his daughter and to himself. Leafblade blew into the captain's horn, signalling the charge and the challenge to the forces of Dol Guldur. He yanked his standard from the ground and held it high as he rode at a gallop in through the open gates of Dol Guldur. The elves of Lorien rushed in with him or struck from the shadows inside.

-

_Inside Dol Guldur, Edinellion spearheaded the Order's charge through a gauntlet of uruks and wargs that barred entry into the tower proper. The fiercest of the Lieutenant's minions were terrors to behold, but within those narrow halls and stairs, face to face with the might of the Order, they were swept aside._

-

With the many forays of the Free Peoples into the sprawling vastness of Dol Guldur, the layout of the castle was well known. The Golden Host struck swiftly and in many places. When captains of the enemy emptied their barracks and pens and dark holes to answer the challenge, they struck at an enemy that was no longer there.

-

_Inside the tower, while the shields of Dams and Edinellion held the armored shade of Durchest at bay, the sword of Andwuld swept the winged helm from its shoulders._

-

Leafblade rode down another orc scout and slowed his horse looking for other enemies. The forces of Dol Guldur raged to and fro but were confounded by the elusive nature of their enemy. In and out of courtyards, behind screens of smoke and flame, in shadows and moonlight, the Golden Host struck and withdrew, delayed and deflected, one attempt after another of the enemy to bring the weight of their superior forces into a crushing confrontation.

-

_High above, the alchemy of Casandir and melodic tones of Faenel countered the deadly fires and waves of fear that swept over the members of the Order as they faced Cargaraf and Morgaraf, the Twins of Fire and Shadow. The tainted spirit of Morgaraf passed into darkness, his last sight the point of Nocona's dagger erupting from his chest. The shrill, tortured wail of Cargaraf at the sight of her brother's fall brought some to their knees in agony, but was cut short by the final warden spear thrust of Scary._

-

Leafblade exited an inner courtyard, leading a pursuing company of orcs into a ruinous ambush from archers of the Golden Host concealed in the shadows outside. The portcullis was dropped, blocking the escape of a greater host from within, but trolls were coming and the gate would soon be raised...or broken down. Dundurion led them to the next strike point, but as they moved, Leaf could see ire of the Dol Guldur was aroused. Horns were sounding, orcs and wargs emerging from unseen sally ports, and room to play the game of war was vanishing. The Golden Host was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse and the jaws of the enemy were threatening to close.

-

_Near the peak of the dark tower, the Order emerged into the night only to be faced by an advancing sea of shimmering wights. Dams and Edinellion raised shields and prepared to fight to the last, but the valor of the Order might have failed if not for the brilliant fighting retreat called for and orchestrated by Nocona. The retreat back down the ramps kept the members of the Order alive and brought the minions of death into firing range time and again. The rain of silver arrows from Eldiraen and Artemir, the hurled fires of Casandir and Antwanette, and the lightning runes of Scillari whittled away the enemy ranks until all were left in ruin. The Order regrouped and moved to the tower's peak once more. One final challenge remained. Keiros planted the banner with the emblems of the Order upon the summit of the dark tower._

-

Far below, the storm of war was growing around Leafblade. He had led a flanking attack that dispersed a group of orcs gathering to block an exit gate. Dundurion's force pursued the remnants of the enemy fleeing down slopes that Leaf's steed could not go. There he paused, planted his banner, and surveyed.

The Golden Host's splintered forces had successfully drawn away the attention of the enemy and drawn out the forces of the Lieutenant. One large force had been led out of the fortress entirely by Fuirgam's company as they made for Thangulhad. But there was now a very real danger that the Golden Host would be a victim of its own success. Rodolleth's company had struck deep inside the fortress and was now retreating down from the high road to the tower. Handelen's horn had sounded, signalling that they were being pushed out the southern gate. Ningloril and Sigilith's groups were retreating to the gates or walls but more and more were having to cut their way through the enemy. But with Anglu and the others of the Golden Host inside the dark tower with the Order, they fought on rather than abandon their allies who faced far deadlier foes.

All of this and more Leafblade could see with growing dread from his perch atop a promontory below the high road leading up to the tower. His horse was tiring. His injured knee was rebelling at the things being asked of it. His shoulder burned from an arrow that had found a niche between pauldron and breastplate. As he sat there awaiting Dundurion's return, he looked up for some hopeful sign from above. Instead, a wave of fear washed over him as he saw the distinctive shape of a fell beast and rider swooping down. One of the eldar in Dundurion's group was plucked from the ground in the claws of the beast as it flew low across the ground and was released only when the beast had glided out over the high wall to drop his prey down the side of the mountain. Others of Dundurion's force scattered.

So it was that the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur came to land on the ground not far in front of Leafblade, alone and without hope of aid. He could not move. His eyes stared wide in mute awe at the Nazgul. His horse must have been affected similarly for it stood very still but breathed heavily and rapidly.

"Fool!" hissed the Lieutenant in anger. "You dare show your banner in my tower!"

Leaf could not respond. His mind raced. His first thought was this had not been part of the plan. It was Dams, Ed, Casandir and those great elves that were supposed to fight the Lieutenant up in the tower, not he alone here on the ground. Then Leaf wondered, 'why would the Nazgul, with all this battle raging about, take the time to bother with a solitary man?' The Lieutenant had come forth from his tower to organize the defense of the castle and counterattack against the forces within. With his ability to survey the field from high above and issue orders, the retreat of the Golden Host would quickly turn into a deadly rout. Yet here he was leaving his forces scattered and seeking direction while he took time to confront a captain alone. And then Leafblade understood. Pride.

The sight of his war banner planted in the ground beside him reflecting the light of the moon and the fires of battle was a dagger into the pride of the Lieutenant. Leafblade drew a deep breath. The fear was receding from him. The creature before him was suddenly diminished in stature. It occurred to him that while it was here, it was not up in the tower threatening his daughter. If only he could find some way to do what needed to be done here, she would not need to face this danger. He almost could have chuckled at himself for even thinking such a thing. But perhaps if he stayed still, showed himself to be paralyzed in fear, the Nazgul may step within reach of his halberd and-

A hint of off color light buffeted the two figures as they faced one another. Both turned their gazes skyward to find the source. There, at the peak of the tower high above, was the glowing figure of the two trees of Valinor. Casandir had foreseen the possibility of the Nazgul being away. And so they beckoned to him with fireworks. Of all things, a child's festival toy: fireworks. And not just fireworks, but symbols of the trees, perched atop the Lieutenant's own tower in the night sky for all to see.

It worked. The Lieutenant let loose with the piercing cry of the Nazgul. The fell beast raised its wings and forced itself up off the ground, gliding away from the promontory near Leaf and gliding out over the wall before gaining altitude and beginning a forced ascent upward. Again and again the Nazgul cried in angry challenge at the Order awaiting him atop his tower. The light of the firework trees faded but the piercing shriek from the Lieutenant did not.

Leafblade was left alone again. Incomprehensibly, he was alive. The challenge of the Order from high above had spared him from the blade of the Nazgul. But while his body sagged with weary relief as the shadow of fear from the presence of the evil passed, alarms rang loud in his mind like the bells ringing in Dale when Smaug had attacked. His daughter. The Nazgul was climbing higher into the sky intent upon slaying all those that awaited him atop the tower.

Again the Nazgul's pride played against him, Leaf thought. If he had just gathered a force of trolls and reentered the tower and made his way to the top, those of the Order and the Golden Host inside would have been destroyed. But pride cannot be dismissed. Almost a thousand years before, the last king of Gondor, Earnur, had ridden from Minas Tirith with but a few men to Minas Morgul to accept a challenge of single combat from the Witch-King. There he had perished and Gondor had been ruled by stewards ever since.

Leaf lurched into panicked breathing. He had to act. He could not let the same death befall his daughter, even if it was the Nazgul this time that rashly responded to a challenge. He lifted his standard out of the ground and raised it in the air, shouting the loudest challenge he could muster out of instinct but it went unheard. He looked around. The battle seem to have slowed as the forces of the enemy heard the wails of their commander and watched him ascend the high airs. Rodolleth's forces were given a needed reprieve and continued their retreat into the lower part of the fortress. Others of the Golden Host regrouped. But none were a source of aid. There was nothing to be done. His standard fell from his hand and clattered to the rocky ground beneath him.

Leafblade turned his gaze skyward. Somewhere up in the night, his daughter was facing the Nazgul. Faenel was facing the Nazgul. The people who had counted on him to protect them were facing this danger without him. His knee. His damned knee had kept him from being there. Had betrayed him when he was most needed by others. He had failed them. His mind filled with visions of them falling under the sword of the Lieutenant; being tossed from the tower by the fell beast just as the elf had earlier and falling to their deaths; perishing in the jaws of the steed of the Nazgul; wounded as Frodo had been and their spirits sinking into darkness and arising as wraiths.

He would act. He moved to dismount and grab his standard. He would hold it high, he would sound his horn, and he would get to his family and friends and he would not let them die. He would act. Dangers be damned, he would act.

The simple act of dismounting proved too much strain for his injured knee, however. It exploded in pain and then he was crashing into the ground and knocked nearly senseless by the impact. He regained full awareness only to have his breath taken away by the shock of pain hitting him from his knee. He screamed. Anger. Frustration. Pain. Fear for those he loved.

He forced himself to roll over. He grasped his standard in one hand. He grasped his halberd that had fallen to the ground in his other hand. He pushed up off the ground with his hands and almost fell again as pain went through him like a lightning bolt from his knee. He held on to standard and weapon like crutches and hobbled to his horse. He growled through the pain, pulled himself up into the saddle. He set the foot below his injured left knee into the stirrup with guidance from his hand. But he could not push or steady himself. Each attempt brought forth a gasp of agony.

He took some deep breaths and steeled himself. He looked around, hoping to find some of the Golden Host ready to follow him. But there were none.

Dundurion and his force were still scattered. Horns sounded from the others. They had seen the two trees. The sign that Casandir had said would signal the challenge to the Nazgul. The sign that the Golden Host had done its part and should leave Dol Guldur for there was nothing left to do. They signalled now for all to retreat while the enemy still wavered in absence of their leader.

Looking up, he saw three massive trolls emerging from the upper gate and starting down the high road toward the lower gates, not far from where he now stood. They were followed by a host of orcs.

Common sense took hold. He was not Fingolfin, High Lord of the Elves in the First Age, riding through all the lands of enemy with eyes glittering like stars and scattering them in fear before him, assaulting the gates of the fortress of Morgoth with his fists and challenging the Dark Lord to personal combat. He was a simple man from Bree who had not wielded anything more menacing than a garden hoe until the Black Riders had shown up in Bree and Archet had burned.

He was helpless. He looked up into the night again. Flashes of light showed dimly from the tower high above. The Order battled the Lieutenant. Visions of ghastly fates befalling his loved ones filled the captain's mind again. Tired, wounded, alone, weakened by confrontation with the Nazgul, he was overcome. He slumped forward, closed his eyes, and let forth a single sob into the mane of his horse. It shift uneasily under him, still aware of battle and evil not far away. For a moment, the night was quiet.

"Leafblade! Are you injured?" The voice was Rodelleth's. The elf champion of the Golden Host was leading her force in retreat and making for the gates, having seen the trees and heard the horns of the others.

He picked his head up slowly and looked to Rodelleth, still some hundred feet distant. The force of elves behind her seemed much smaller than he remembered. Just like my family, Leaf thought. He looked skyward once more. Many colors of light still flashed from the tower summit. Could they prevail?

He pulled his horn to his lips and sounded it in response to the others of the Golden Host. Dundurion emerged from the slope below with some of his company. Not many were left. They joined Rodelleth and made for the west gate. Leafblade looked skyward once more, hoping for some report. Still the light flashed. Was that Scillari's lightning rune? Was that Casandir's lightning storm? His daughter's?

The ground started to rumble. A distant report of the trolls lumbering down the road. It was time to go. There was nothing left to do but make for the hidden cave and hope the Order would emerge. Hope his daughter would walk out of the darkness. Hope to see Faenel's eyes twinkle at him in smile again.

-

Thangulhad was overrun. Rumors said a large force was heading toward Ost Galadh and it would have to be abandoned. Wargs were howling in the woods and searching. The lights from the peak of Dol Guldur had stopped not long after Leafblade and the Golden Host had escaped the fortress and made for secret trails into the forest. Now they waited outside the cave. Rodelleth had taken a group to the orc camps near the Ashenslades in hopes that battle and flame would keep scouts away from hidden cave at Sad Doldur.

Hours passed. Dawn was threatening to come. Elf and man wondered if their sacrifice in attacking Dol Guldur had not been in vain. No greater torment had Leafblade, now a veteran of many terrible quests and campaigns, ever known. What would he do if his family and friends were gone? If they had perished up in that tower?

As it happened, the only act to have been in vain was his concern. Emerging from the shadowy cave and bearing torches were Dams and Edinellion. Between them walked Casandir. Behind them came the rest of the Order and many of the Golden Host that had invaded the tower together. Wanting to get a closer look, Leafblade urged his horse forward. Splashing through the water toward the cave, his horse surged up the bank and between two huge old trees. For a moment, his heart raced in fear when he did not see either of the two that he looked for most. Weary, not without wounds of their own, they saw Leafblade before he saw them. They saw the panicked, hopeful look in his eyes reflected in the light of the torches held by nearby members of the Golden Host as he searched for them.

"He looks worried," Antwanette said. "I think he's worried we might not have made it."

Faenel chuckled, "I think he's worried that his daughter might not have followed his instructions to take no chances."

"Yes," Dams said, "and for good reason." Antwanette glanced wonderingly up at Dams but the elf only winked at her in response. They had all agreed to let Antwanette tell her father in her own time about the battle atop the tower with the Lieutenant. To tell him how in the Order's moment of need, when the battle was in doubt, she had stepped forward to face down the fell beast. When she used her skill with animals, blinding flashes, and with steeds to distract, mount and ride the fell beast in circles. Allowed Dams to duel the Witch-King and allowed the rest of the order to vanquish the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur and give Lothlorien needed time to prepare for the inevitable assault.

They saw Leafblade take in a deep breath, his face break into an unrestrained smile, and let out a cry of elation upon seeing them. The horse responded from the sound with a wild rearing up on hind legs.

They moved around Dams and moved toward Leafblade ahead of the others. "Wow!" Antwanette said, "Yes," Faenel agreed. "I didn't know your Dad could make a horse rear like that."

"Neither did I," responded Antwanette.

The two of them then winced and heard some mutters and chuckles from the Order behind them. Faenel chuckled as well. "Did you know he could fall off the back of a horse like that?"

"Yes," Antwanette responded, "THAT I did know." The two chuckled and started to hurry forward to help him up.

The End


End file.
